


Closing The Distance

by merr



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Confessions, First Time, Jack In Washington, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merr/pseuds/merr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel leaves SG1 and ends up on Jack’s proverbial doorstep; the thing is, Jack’s been waiting for this day for a looooong time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing The Distance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Topazowlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topazowlet/gifts).



> Title: Closing The Distance  
> Author: Merr  
> Summary: Daniel leaves SG1 and ends up on Jack’s proverbial doorstep; the thing is, Jack’s been waiting for this day for a looooong time.  
> Word Count: 4,000ish  
> Rating: G  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own SG1, you can bet ALL your jell-o on that…  
> Written For: Topazowl @ the 2014 JD Ficathon 8D  
> Prompt: (1) Daniel leaves SG1 after a massive fight with Vala. (2) Jack in Washington. (Optional) First time~  
> Notes: Big thanks to AAF for the beta! <3!

Daniel took a deep breath, eyebrows bunching and raising as he slumped further into the rigid airport terminal chair. Time seemed to ignore him as stared at his phone. _There’s no way this is going to –_ His thought was interrupted by a leather-clad torso filling his vision just behind a disposable coffee cup.

“Daniel, you’re not getting out of this.”

He mumbled a thank you, reached out for the drink and set about ignoring the woman as best he ever could while she perched on the chair next to him. She took a slurp of her smoothie and leaned theatrically over his shoulder, “What’cha looking at?”

He almost snapped at her but caught himself: _She’s what got me into this whole mess in the first place._ Well, not Vala, technically… or even snapping at her specifically. But, ignoring and re-directing his misery which led to their huge naked blowout in this apartment the week before? Yeah, that was his fault and what finally forced _her_ to force _his_ hand.

The flavor of coffee across his tongue did very little to calm his nerves. _This isn’t going to work, not how she thinks it will,_ he repeated to himself. It’d been his mantra the whole drive to the airport, too.

He shrugged noncommittally and Vala took another drink, the little bemused smile on her face half for the frozen, blended confection in her hand and the other half for the handsome Tauri beside her. “I’m surprised neither Samantha or Teal'c thought of making you do this,” she said cheerily, crossing her legs and winking at a teenage boy staring openly at her clothing.

Daniel stuffed his phone back into his pocket and stretched his legs out, face turning down in a scowl, “You're assuming they know at all.”

Vala laughed, eyes pinning themselves to the side of his pouting face, “Oh come on, Daniel. I had it figured out looooong before I spent six plus months in your bed…”

Both Daniel and the kid’s face went red and Vala laughed again when the kid got up and moved, glancing nervously at the muscle-bound man sitting next to her. Daniel crossed his arms, tipping his chin down and looking at Vala over the edge of his new, rimless glasses, “You’re not happy unless you cause a scene everywhere you go.”

She just smiled her dazzling you're-cute-when-you're-angry smile at him as she interrupted: "And _you're_ not happy with the glasses I picked out either, even though they complement your eyes extremely well."

Daniel rolled said eyes and looked away, muttering, “Drama doesn't complement you _nearly_ as well as you think.”

She took another slurp, pushing a pigtail off her other shoulder absently, “You can be as bitchy as you want – I still bailed you out with the SGC _and_ paid for your new glasses, so… you’re welcome.”

Daniel sat forward, knowing she was pushing his buttons on purpose. As he opened his mouth to bark back anyway, the loudspeaker announced that his flight was now boarding and he clicked his jaw shut. She bounced up next to him, picked up his carry on and caught his eyes. Daniel's eyebrows knit together as he took his bag from her, but she just leaned forward and kissed him chastely, pushing him by the shoulder toward the door to the walkway, “Don’t take no for an answer, Daniel!”

Daniel wanted to snap something back but blinked hard instead, surprised at the emotion welling up in him as he walked away from her. They'd fallen into an … arrangement, and though it'd been going well (Daniel had to admit Vala had some skill to back up her ridiculously forward attitude), she’d finally put her foot down a week ago when his increasing ‘bitchiness’ (her words) reached a head. By the end of the confrontation, they were still naked, Daniel's glasses were broken and Vala was looking up flights to Washington.

 

* * *

 

Almost four hours later, Daniel stumbled off the plane yawning and drowsy from all the Dramamine he'd ingested. He hadn't made reservations in a hotel anywhere, much less really let himself plan any part of this debacle at all – he knew he was too much of a runner. Someone else's emotional problems? He was right there, heart in hand, shoulder in position... face his _own_ emotions? No thanks.

 _Start down that road and suddenly you're stuck on the Autobahn of suck._ He snorted, amused that his vernacular was already ahead of him in re-acclimating to Jack.

...Jack.

_Damn._

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, shrugging his shoulder-bag back into place as he dialed and walked toward the baggage claim. Jack picked up after barely two rings which, under other circumstances, would've pinged on Daniel’s ‘strange’ radar. He was too busy trying to keep his cool to notice, muttering lamely, “Hi! …Jack, hey.”

Waiting for Jack's voice over the phone made Daniel's heart skip – he couldn't remember the last time they talked specifically, but it was probably when Cameron first showed up; when Daniel’d missed his chance to get to Atlantis.

Daniel remembered he hadn't been exactly warm to the colonel... general? His _friend_.

_Well, I’m not going to reward him after he decided to up and abandon SG1 the way he did._

"Hello, Daniel. How was your flight?" Jack’s voice was slightly amused, slightly… something else Daniel couldn’t put his finger on. He felt like he’d heard Jack’s voice like that, before, somewhere… but he didn’t have time to think about as his brain registered what the other man said versus puzzling over the sound of the words.

"...Did Vala call you?" _It'd be just like her, the little--_

"Nah, it was Carter. She said you left SG1," Jack paused; Daniel imagined him taking a swig of beer: "Soon as she said that, I had a feeling you'd show up at my proverbial doorstep."

“Ah, well, you’re humble as ever… and I’m guilty as charged.” Daniel’s face was warming a bit as he paused in the line near the rotating baggage claim belts. Jack was teasing him, he knew; he couldn’t quite remember what their banter felt like anymore.

Jack didn't say anything for a moment, just waited for Daniel to say what he needed or wanted of him. _I'll probably die of old age before that happens,_ Jack mused, taking another swig of his beer.

“So.”

“…Yes?”

“Jack.”

“Daniel?”

Both men, in the same city but miles away from one another, rolled their eyes in unison. Daniel adjusted his glasses with the corner of his phone, sighing as he forced himself to blurt: “I was wondering if you were... free. For dinner. Or drinks or... whatever."

A little bark of a laugh from the other end, then: "Hmm, let’s see if I can clear some things off my bustling retirement schedule…"

“You… retired.” _I had no idea. How long? Maybe there’s a reason he…?_

“Ye-up.” Jack refused to offer anything else. He’d had the papers filled out for a long, long time, but kept stalling as work at the Pentagon kept him distracted from how much he missed SG1. As soon as Sam called him, however, he took the papers out of his drawer and turned them in without a second thought. There was no way in hell he’d tell Daniel that, though. _Not yet, anyway._

Daniel pinched the phone between his shoulder and ear as he spotted his luggage and grabbed it. He was beginning to feel foolish for being so peevish over the past months… he hadn’t realized how truly unhappy he was without Jack around. He’d thought it would be _easier_ to ignore the long-term emotions with his best friend _gone_ but every time they stepped off world with Cam, the job felt more foreign.

Daniel never felt quite as safe or as comfortable as he had when Jack was leading them – even with Sam and Teal’c around. It wasn’t Cam’s fault, either, he knew that. The kid gave his all and had a good sense of humor, but Daniel couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching out for Cameron rather than vice versa.

Jack’s absence hit Daniel in the gut, too, every time Cameron would nutshell-quote a mission they’d been on before to make sure he was as up-to-speed as he could be without having been there.

The worst of it was how goddamn _tired_ Daniel was starting to get of it all. He still never gave up when things inevitably went wrong; still stood up for every life he could, but it was wearing on him, somehow harder and deeper than before. He seemed to take longer to recover every time he ended up in the infirmary or the psych office, and even after days of leave or physical therapy, he still never felt up to snuff. His batteries simply wouldn’t charge up to 100%.

In the dimness of the living room lamp, Jack finished his beer, set it down on the table and wiped his mouth with his hand before he spoke: “So. You’re gonna have to get a taxi to my place; I’m an old man with no reason to wake up early anymore and I’m a few beers in here.” _Also, I thought your flight would get in a lot earlier than this. I got nervous, sue me._

Startled out of his thoughts, Daniel fumbled with the phone, almost dropping it, but by the time he got it back to his ear, he was already asking for Jack’s address.

 

* * *

 

When the taxi pulled to a stop in front of a modest-sized rambler in a fairly nice neighborhood, Daniel peered out the window, wide awake. The coffee he snagged before calling the taxi probably took the most responsibility for that, but the man’s heart was racing, too. _This is crazy. Well, maybe not that crazy. Just an old friend, coming for a visit. …I’m long overdue for a mid-life crisis anyway, right?_

Daniel jumped as the taxi driver raised his voice, repeating the request for payment. The archeologist apologized in Arabic, handing over two twenties before forcing himself out of the car. He stood on the sidewalk in front of the house, not even hearing the taxi drive away behind him as he froze in place. Jack, standing in the dark entry way, having seen the taxi drive up, stood just as still, unconsciously holding his breath.

Daniel tightened his grip on the strap of his shoulder bag and luggage handle at the same time, heart jumping into his throat as he thought about the wrinkles forming on his face, how his shoulders ached when the barometer dropped, the few gray hairs he’d found inspecting himself in the mirror before leaving the house for the flight that brought him here… He’d found all these things endearing in Jack. Humanizing. Unbelievably and unfailingly sexy. But on _himself_? They made him feel a little battered, damaged; somehow less than he used to be. He was stalling, a part of him knew that, but the rest of him held his feet glued to the spot, standing in a strange neighborhood in the middle of the night about to spill his guts to the most familiar man in his life.

Jack let his breath out, finally, when he realized Daniel wasn’t going to move unless he did something. He’d already had the porch light on – he felt lucky for that as he admired Daniel in jeans and a brown zip-down sweater – but reached over and flicked on the entryway light, knowing it’d show Daniel his silhouette. As he unlocked the deadbolt, he saw the younger man start walking up the path to his front door.

He opened the inside door, gripped the handle and leaned, in a what he hoped was a casual manner, on the other side of the doorframe. Daniel looked up with one step left, just about tripping on it: Jack was dressed in a pair of worn-out jeans, an old fishing tourney t-shirt, light diffused on his front by the screen door and the light behind him belaying the mussed state of his hair.

“Hi, Jack!”

The smile on Jack’s face was as automatic as Daniel’s greeting; Jack noted the blush on Daniel’s face as he set his luggage down to adjust his glasses, _Okay, so far, so good. Doesn’t seem like things have changed that much…_ “Dannyboy! Come on in.”

He opened the screen door for the younger man, pressing himself as flat against the doorframe as he could; still, Daniel’s shoulder brushed against him – and the following shoulder bag almost nailed him in the groin, but he turned away just in time, accidentally crowding up against Daniel’s back. Both men grunted and stumbled a bit, Jack cursing the beers he’d had just a bit as he straightened up and pulled his clothes back in order, “Cripes, Danny, watch it. Almost dropped me with that bag there.”

Daniel was silent – and bewildered: the house was quiet, mostly dark except for a glow coming from what he presumed to be the living room, but he felt the same expansion in his chest he felt when he stepped into a bustling festival or flashy ceremony. Instead of the scent of street food and flowers, though, there was earthy spice and – “Is that pizza? I’m starving…”

Jack shook his head, grinning just a bit, and motioned toward the living room, “Chateau O’Neill offers a full menu of Fat Tire and Pizza Hut, right this way, sir.”

Daniel suddenly felt like the awkward, late-twenty-something he had been the first time they’d gone through the Stargate, to Abydos. Thrilled, a bit out of his element; excited and trying to take it all in at once, “I should – thanks, I mean, and I should – where do you – what about my luggage?”

Jack laughed this time, really laughed, and took both the suitcase and the shoulder bag away from Daniel, letting his touch linger the smallest bit with each gesture, before nodding toward the other room, “Go – eat, drink, take a breath. I’ll stash your stuff in the back room.”

The force of Daniel’s smile was like a long-absent blast of pleasant heat. He watched the other man ( _Hm, wonder when he started growing his hair out again?_ ) pull his sweater off, hang it on the nearest coat hook, and then scurry toward the promise of food. Jack hoisted Daniel’s belongings and walked them to the back (and only) bedroom. He’d changed the sheets and bedding and tidied everything up as soon as he got home from the grocery store on the way home the day he retired. The whole time, his brain kept complaining at him that it was preemptive at best, overly hopeful at worst.

 _I’d give any guest the bedroom, anyway,_ he reasoned with himself then and again, now, making it the final thought of his accidental musing. He set the luggage at the foot of the bed, not bothering to turn the light on, and turned around to make a beeline for the living room.

He almost ran straight into Daniel, shoes already off and padding like a ninja down the hallway, looking for Jack with an open beer bottle in each hand, “Heads up! Hey, I… brought you a beer. Thanks for, ah, putting me up on such short notice.”

Jack wet his lips and nodded, reaching for the beer, “It’s no problem, really.” _Been waiting a lot longer than you think, Danny…_

Daniel watched Jack as the silver-haired man walked past him back toward the main room, taking a deep drink of the beer. He swallowed reflexively in reply, watching the muscles in Jack’s throat move for a split second before looking down – Jack was barefoot, too, and it made him wiggle his own toes. _…How? How can I be so at home already? There’s still a chance he’ll…_

“Daniel, is that really your second beer? I was gone for less than five minutes…”

Daniel took a small drink of his, yes, second beer, and rounded the corner to see Jack sprawled comfortably in an armchair next to the couch, eyebrow raised.

“Well, you said you’d had a few, I’ve got some catching up to do,” he said, easing himself down onto the end of the couch that was father away from Jack but made it easier to face him. He settled into the corner, cross-legged, and raised his bottle toward Jack, “To your newly acquired and long-awaited joblessness!”

Jack drank with Daniel, then balanced the bottle on the arm of the chair, sable eyes turning somewhat serious as he peered at Daniel, “Same goes to you, apparently. What happened?”

Daniel was silent, took a long drink of beer, swallowed, looked right at Jack… then waved a hand as if to brush something away before taking another long pull. Jack shook his head, “…Daniel.”

The younger man shrugged, grimacing at the lingering flavor of beer coating the entire inside of his mouth from chugging so much so fast. Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes; instead, he slouched further into the chair, putting his feet up on the coffee table, “I’ve got all the time in the world, Danny-boy. One way or another, you’re gonna tell me—”

“I was sleeping with Vala!” Daniel blurted, cutting the other man off. He could feel sweat pop up on his forehead and neck, but couldn’t tell if it was from the conversation or the alcohol. _You idiot! Don’t lead with that…_

Jack’s eyebrows crawled up and he took a drink to stall for time – and school his expression away from jealousy, “Mhmm?”

Daniel struggled for a minute, starting and stopping, gesturing then dropping his hands mid-movement… but then he was talking and couldn’t stop: “We were. Just sleeping together, I mean. We both agreed it didn’t have to be more than that, and we’re both adults and I needed some kind of outlet and she did, too, she said, and she flirted with me constantly, so one thing led to another, I guess, but she said I was getting too… bitchy… _Why_ are you laughing?”

Jack shook his head, sitting up in his seat a little bit to put his beer bottle on the table, then leaning back, “So, teammates with benefits and she didn’t appreciate your intermittent ice-king-cold-shoulder routine, eh?”

Daniel pulled his bottom lip through his teeth, a flush rising in his face – partially indignant, but also suddenly desperate to make it clear that the two of them weren’t in _love_ and they knew it. To be sure _Jack_ knew.

“It… well, no, that doesn’t matter to her. She just ignores it when I try to ignore her, it’s really quite irritating, to be totally honest; this was different, this was more—” He took the last drink in his beer bottle, leaned forward to set it firmly on the coffee table and stared directly at Jack, “We fought because I was… missing someone.”

“I thought you said you two weren’t in love?”

Jack was holding still, keeping his legs casually crossed and propped on the coffee table, watching Daniel like a hawk. He’d thought it would be easier to remain calm – that he’d come to terms with his feelings and attraction; convinced that Daniel would be the only jumpy one if they ever really talked about what he suspected they _both_ felt. Now, his heart was like a rabbit sprinting for cover. _Holy hell, he could actually… he might actually…!_

Daniel gave a short, frustrated sigh and uncrossed his legs, “We’re _not._ Weren’t. Whatever.” He planted his feet on the floor, leaned over to plant his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, “It was getting… too stressful to go off-world all the time; every time I went through the gate, I thought about not… getting to…”

As Daniel paused, Jack took a deep, silent breath, then jumped in with both feet: “You might not get a chance to tell… someone. How you felt.”

Daniel nodded, pulling at his hair a bit before sitting up and gesturing with his hands, “Exactly! Exactly.” He turned to look at Jack, still freaking out about what he was saying so badly that he didn’t catch the inflection in Jack’s voice. He ranted on, fingertips pushing his bangs back behind his temples, “She said I was, was, bitchy. Stand-offish and touchy. Impatient and unreasonable. I’m… I’m sure I was those things, I won’t deny it, but really I was just… exhausted. Tired. I am _so_ tired.”

Jack was still holding his ground physically, but his mouth answered for him before he could bite the words back, “Tired of waiting.”

“Yes! Yes! Tired of hiding, tired of wondering and worrying and losing sleep wrestling with myself. All I want is… I just want to build a life with, to be near, to _love_ —”

Jack felt the bucket-of-cold-water adrenaline sensation crash over him as he said softly, “Your someone?”

“You.”

Daniel sounded almost confused as he said it, almost as if it were a revelation to himself, too, rather than a truth he’d buried for years and years finally laid bare.

The two men looked at each other in silence – Jack, to his horror, was choked up that his longest-running remotely possible wish had just been granted while Daniel was frozen in place like a deer in proverbial headlights, waiting for and not sure if he really _could_ handle the impending rejection as well as he’d told himself he would.

If nothing else, Jack was and always would be a man of action. He pulled his legs off the coffee table and pushed his body up off the chair, eyes never leaving Daniel’s as he crossed the three strides of space between them. The hair on the younger man’s arms and neck stood on end as he abruptly rose to his feet – he didn’t think Jack would get _physical_ about his rejection, this was totally outside the sphere of –

“Sit down.”

Daniel’s chest heaved with a small huff of breath as he automatically sat back down. He couldn’t break his gaze away from Jack’s face, even when the older man turned away a bit to drag the coffee table closer to Daniel’s seat.

“Jack – it’s okay if you – I mean, if you don’t – I can leave—”

Jack didn’t answer until he sat down on the edge of the coffee table and scrubbed his face with his hands. He rested his elbows on his knees, intertwined his fingers and looked up at Daniel, “Just… be quiet for a minute, okay?”

Daniel nodded mutely, licking his lips and sitting on his hands to keep from fidgeting with them. Jack searched his face for a moment, then nodded minutely, as if he’d found what he was looking for, “I know you’re a little intoxicated right now – actually, you’re probably feeling good and drunk, you’re such a lightweight. But I want you to pay very, very close attention to what I’m saying.”

He paused and Daniel nodded, smiling against his will just a little bit at the seemingly affectionate way Jack called him a lightweight. The older man sat up straight, rubbed his scarred eyebrow for a moment, then sighed and crossed his arms, “Cripes, maybe I should have had a couple _more_ , this is harder than it looks. Okay, Danny. Okay. Here.” He gestured out with one hand, palm up: “You know how you said you felt, stepping through the ‘gate and wondering if you’d ever have a chance to… well, y’know, tell me you… love me?”

Daniel felt his face flush a deeper red, hearing the words out of Jack’s mouth. _Oh god, please, I would give anything to hear that over and over again for the rest of my—_

“Well, I… left the SGC because I couldn’t keep watching you walk through that gate, knowing there might come a day when you didn’t come back home through it.”

Daniel’s gears were a little out of alignment (considering he was usually oblivious to people’s feelings toward him anyway; being a little drunk only exacerbated things) but they were starting to gain steam again as Daniel started really _seeing_ Jack’s face and body language; actually started _hearing_ Jack instead of his own superimposed fears, “Jack—”

“Ah-aht! I’m not done. Just… I knew there was no way I could… tell you how I felt without you leaving SG1.” Jack uncrossed his arms, gesturing with one hand and then the other: “Either you’d reciprocate and leave the program to make it easier to be with me considering DADT _or_ you’d gracefully decline and leave the program to make it easier on me considering the fact you’ve been my best friend for damn near a decade. I couldn’t… dammit, Danny, I couldn’t _take_ the ‘gate from you, but I couldn’t _take_ watching you go through the gate without me anymore.”

Daniel pulled his hands from under his thighs and scooted forward to the edge of the couch, crossing one arm over his chest and pinching his own chin in a theatric gesture of thought, “Exactly how _long_ ago did you retire, Jack?”

A small rueful smile on thin lips, a shrug: “The day Sam told me you quit SG1.”

A larger smile on full lips, just below crinkled blue eyes, “That’s awfully presumptuous, don’t you think, Jack?” Daniel uncrossed his arms as he spoke, settling the heels of his hands on the edge of the couch frame, looking at Jack over the top of his glasses.

Jack’s half-smile crooked into place easily as he put on a playfully smug expression, “What can I say? I’ve always been a gamblin’ man.”

As Daniel sat up straight and leaned forward, he murmured, “What a load of crap.”

“Guilty as charged,” Jack breathed back, echoing Daniel’s words from earlier as he felt the space between their faces shrink moment by moment.

“So, tell me, Jack—why _did_ you finally retire?”

He could feel Daniel’s breath against his face, barely; watched Daniel watch his lips as he simply said, “Hope.”

“In?”

The very edge of Daniel’s bottom lip bumped up against Jack’s and the older man felt like he’d licked a 9-volt battery; his thoughts came fast, in pieces— _Danny, you little… you perfect…_ —and his voice was low with emotion as he reached both hands up, carded them into Daniel’s hair and finally, _finally_ closed the distance:

“This.”


End file.
